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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018123">Burying Mercy &amp; Grace (In Unmarked Shallow Graves)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigChurch/pseuds/BigChurch'>BigChurch</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Fic &amp; Writing Practice Fic, Hydra Steve Rogers, M/M, Slow Updates, author is not native, mature themes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:14:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30018123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BigChurch/pseuds/BigChurch</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bucky has never met Steve Rogers, until he‘s assigned a mission in England in 1942 and encounters an unfriendly and tall man and his “HYDRA” colleagues who seem to want him to join them.</p><p>Lyric title taken from <a href="https://youtu.be/L9_1ZlknqZE">Diggin’ Up Hatchets</a> by Shayfer James.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Burying Mercy &amp; Grace (In Unmarked Shallow Graves)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Welcome to my first fic &amp; writing practice fic! I’m not native so this fic will probably be a little awkward. Or become better as time goes on. But that’s what practice is for. :]</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Blood-curdling screams and battle cries echoed through the birch woods. Tender rays of light flashed between dark, linear silhouettes and the faint shapes of branches, ever-so-slightly lighting up the thick mist floating through them. A thin layer of frost coated the earthy ground and the steady figures of the tall trees. The air was unrelentingly freezing. Pitch black and dark brown boots harshly collided with the ground, frost and dust spilling all over the place, a troop of soldiers trotting behind Bucky, with a rifle in his arms.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky slowly came to a stop to stand still and observe his surroundings, the haze in the forest not helping with his need for sight. He held out an arm, signaling for the men behind him to stop in their tracks as well. It was crystal clear in everyone’s minds that Bucky heard the distant echoes of shouts. </p><p> </p><p>A drop of sweat trickled from his forehead, resting at his brow. He still believed that he earned his title of Sergeant Barnes with his good manners and not his ability to lead – the lives that stood behind him felt like a responsibility and not power. He didn’t want to drag them into any mess unless it had to be that way.</p><p> </p><p>“Stay here together, I’m gonna scout ahead. If anyone attacks, start yelling and spread immediately. See any men down, you rescue ‘em if you can. Don’t take too many risks,” Bucky said to his troop. </p><p> </p><p>And, of course a soldier steps forward with a disapproving glare locked down onto Bucky who was slightly shorter.</p><p> </p><p>“And why exactly are you leaving us all here?”</p><p> </p><p>“You wanna walk away from here alive, don’t you?” Bucky sighed with a frown.</p><p> </p><p>The soldier’s face was engulfed by shadows, Bucky couldn’t read any emotions on his face. “We’re fighting a war here and you’re worrying about your own life?”</p><p> </p><p>Of course he was, Bucky remembered the fear he felt when he was told that he’d be drafted into the army, that he might die. Then years passed, somehow he was Sergeant, and although he came to terms with the concept of death better in the past few years serving and risking his life, it wasn’t nearly doubtful that his hands still shook every time he got his orders. He wasn’t insensitive to it. Not enough to be reckless.</p><p> </p><p>“Your lives, not mine. I’m not gonna budge, you’re not gonna go and die for nothing on my watch.”</p><p> </p><p>He turned, inched closer, until he could see the lighter color of the soldier’s bulging sclera. His eyes were stretched wide, meaning he must have been shocked. </p><p> </p><p>“Get back in line, will you?” Bucky lowered his voice.</p><p> </p><p>“...Yes, Sir.”</p><p> </p><p>The tone of his voice sounded more exasperated than compliant, and Bucky would worry further, but instead he sighed in a tired relief seeing the taller man step back, and walked further into the woods himself, closer to the distant yelling.</p><p> </p><p>He had tried to be quiet at first, but then something sharply cracked under his boot, startling him. A branch. So there wasn’t a way to be absolutely quiet. Bucky’s undershirt was damp with his cold sweat, uncomfortably clinging against his torso. He began to pick up his pace.</p><p> </p><p>His first long overdue interruption was the sight of a pitch black silhouette, his armor looking too complex to be on Bucky’s side, stumbling past him, tripping on something – probably a branch as well, and falling over onto the ground, frost and dust rising up around him.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky took a deep breath. Time to be brave. He stepped closer. The man who was now twitching and seemingly injured enough to be defenseless wasn’t a walking shadow, he was wearing pitch black armor that looked heavier than what Bucky knew bullets could penetrate, and beside his hand was a weapon he dropped that looked as big as a grenade launcher and too complex to appear usable.</p><p> </p><p>A morbid curiosity burned inside Bucky, he stepped even closer to bend down and turn the man over to find more pitch black, a bit of silvery reflections that he thought must be metal, the rust-colored stains of blood – and a faint red painted symbol. A symbol of a skull with tentacle legs, printed on one shoulder. It was hard to see, but its existence was ominous. It wasn’t the swastika, he hadn’t ever seen a symbol like this, and nazis, they’re never this fancily armed.</p><p> </p><p>“What the hell…” Bucky mumbled.</p><p> </p><p>He leaned closer to inspect further, but the sight of a vibrant and bluish light flashing from the corner of his vision shocked him. It was over before he knew it, the light was gone. He wasn’t going insane this early, was he? Bucky pushed himself up and stood, shaky fingers clutching into his rifle, and walked towards the source of that light. He put it on himself to investigate the situation, so he was going to commit to that plan.</p><p> </p><p>Sooner than he was ready for, more bluish lights – lasers – shot from the mist, almost meeting Bucky’s arm, and he instinctively ducked despite knowing that bullets couldn’t just be dodged. His chest clenched, adrenaline pumping in his veins and in his head. The further in he went, the more bodies of fallen soldiers were on the ground, this time wearing recognizable military uniforms. Americans. None of them were moving, probably dead or about to be.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky would have let himself dwell a little in respect for those soldiers or try to wake a few, but then another silhouette in a military uniform emerged from the thick mist, followed by one of those heavily armed soldiers with one of those grenade launcher-sized weapons. He opened fire as fast as he could without risking digging a bullet into the skin of a fellow American, until their enemy seemed to lose all signs of being a potential danger and fell to his knees.</p><p> </p><p>Then the man in the military uniform turned around.</p><p> </p><p>“Careful, son. You might hit your teammate next time.”</p><p> </p><p>Bucky’s eyes widened. He recognized that voice. “You know how accurate my shots are, Richard.”</p><p> </p><p>The man stepped further out of the mist, the same medium length brown hair that looked pitch black on this moonless night and the same messy and worn out uniform. Wasn’t as tall as the soldier from earlier, but Bucky knew there was no way he had outgrown the man in the past few years.</p><p> </p><p>“That’s Master Sergeant Allen to you, Barnes.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh is it now? Can’t believe you’re still Master Sergeant. I’m already Sergeant Barnes to ya, pal,” Bucky spat back.</p><p> </p><p>“Bravo. You’re catching up.”</p><p> </p><p>Richard avoided Bucky’s provoking glare and bent down to pick up the nazi weapon. It was only then that Bucky realized Richard wasn’t carrying any weapon before. Not far from them on the ground was a gun, half disintegrated, looking like part of it was somehow molten off.</p><p> </p><p>“Allen, buddy, what the hell happened to your gun?”</p><p> </p><p>Richard stumbled forward to get his hands on the bigger weapon – the nazi gun – which was still fully intact. His eyes roamed over it.</p><p> </p><p>“I-I don’t know – the lasers come out of these and whatever it hits gets burnt off. Even- even steel. We’ve only seen three hostiles with guns like these.”</p><p> </p><p>Bucky frowned. It wasn’t like Richard to stutter, it was even more unnatural to hear his voice break like that. His eyes wandered down and he saw a big, open flesh wound on Richard’s leg, close to the ankle. It was hard to see clearly in the dark, but one could be sure that the leg looked like it had a part of it simply missing. Gone. His boot was wet with blood, judging by the way it was reflecting the ever-so-slightly existent light.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh God, your leg–“</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah, I know,” Richard interrupted. </p><p> </p><p>The wound was probably the makings of the nazi gun, too. Bucky wasn’t worrying about the wound, he was concerned about other lives that were being taken as they spoke.</p><p> </p><p>“What do you mean, ‘yeah, I know’? We’re outnumbered, aren’t we? Then why aren’t we retreating? This isn’t just some ordinary nazi operation!”</p><p> </p><p>“I think we’ve already figured that out, Barnes. They ain’t- they ain’t Hitler’s men, but they’re carrying those highly dangerous weapons and if we could find where they got those from…”</p><p> </p><p>“And what, <em> what </em> are the chances of that?”</p><p> </p><p>Bucky criticized and took a step back, his conscience pulling him towards the troop of soldiers he left back near the edge of the forest. </p><p> </p><p>He continued. “God- Allen, do you ever use your head to think? We’ll be laying down the lives of every American here, look at how damn well prepared they are! I’m leading a rescue team but I won’t bring them any further in here if you won’t put in any effort to save your own ass!”</p><p> </p><p>Richard managed to somehow push himself back onto his feet and stand. Bucky only now realized how much weight of himself he was shifting onto his better leg.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you scared, Barnes?”</p><p> </p><p>Bucky raised his glare, offended. “I’m trying to spare us more unnecessary death, <em> Master Sergeant </em>-“</p><p> </p><p>He didn’t get to finish his snarky response, because suddenly, from behind him, a chorus of shouts and howls rang all the way through the mist, reaching the two men and startling them.</p><p> </p><p>And Bucky remembered what he’d told his troop before.</p><p> </p><p>“Shit!”</p><p> </p><p>“What’s happening back there? That your rescue team-?”</p><p> </p><p>Bucky could barely respond. Urgency was clutching at his heart and it was squeezing ruthlessly.</p><p> </p><p>“C’mon, Richard! Hostiles reached them!”</p><p> </p><p>The two ran hurriedly along the path Bucky took from the standby location to where they were now, Richard of course stumbling and slower, but he luckily didn’t waste breath on complaining about his title.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, there were now far more enemies than there were before, launching themselves at the two, shooting at them. They ducked and got very lucky, and Bucky got in some lucky shots back at them as well. Blood was pumping and drumming in his ears, and the ringing in his ears induced by the loud noises of the gunshots didn’t help.</p><p> </p><p>Just as Bucky wondered when his luck was going to run out, a dark, round figure practically flew from the side and-</p><p> </p><p>Brutally crashed into his feet, sending him flying forward and hitting and rolling over the rough ground, dirt splashing everywhere and probably a lot of bloody scratches in his skin. That wasn’t important right now. What just hit him?</p><p> </p><p>Bucky curled up on his side, throat tickled by the unpleasant feeling of dirt in his mouth, forcing him to cough painfully. He groaned and forced his eyes to open and look around. There was his rifle, not too far away. He couldn’t lose his weapon, not now. He made an effort to crawl towards the rifle, barely grabbing a hold of it.</p><p> </p><p>And that was when a quick, dark figure sprung from the direction the flying object had flown out of. He removed the object which was stuck in the ground previously, quick and choppy, and hooked it onto his arm. That was when he stood straight, and Bucky got a better look at him.</p><p> </p><p>He was tall. Real tall. Thick limbs and broad shoulders with a smooth and round silhouette for a head.</p><p> </p><p>His eyes and scalp were covered by some kind of helmet and his nose and jaw were exposed. But what was eye catching, was the big, ominous, red symbol on his chest. The skull with tentacle legs. And the flying object that was on his arm now – it was just a shield, apparently.</p><p> </p><p>What was he hesitating over? He had to get himself out of this situation…</p><p> </p><p>Bucky grabbed onto his rifle firmly and pulled it into position, firing straight at the silhouette. Suddenly, the man curled up on himself, and bullets that hit him merely made sounds that indicated they were hitting some kind of metal. The shield was bulletproof too, apparently. As the sparks lit up, he could see the patterns on the shield. Some kind of rings, black and red, and in the center lay a red star.</p><p> </p><p>Wait, were they Soviet…?</p><p> </p><p>His train of thought was interrupted before it even started up as the man launched himself forward, knocking his shield under Bucky’s rifle, locking it there and then grabbing onto the weapon in an attempt to pull it from his hands. Bucky held onto the weapon for dear life, but for some reason, whoever was looking over him was so incredibly strong that he was barely even struggling.</p><p> </p><p>So Bucky kicked and thrashed, landing a kick in the hostile’s shin, and another kick, and another, until the shield came down on his leg. Well, on his knee. Just under his knee. Every nerve in his body fired up and screamed silently, sending violent and uncontrollable shivers through him. He gritted his teeth and attempted to hiss out his pain, but a sharp, pathetic rumble rang from his throat instead.</p><p> </p><p>“Barnes!” It was about time that Richard’s voice rang from afar. </p><p> </p><p>The attacker must have known that he was hitting a weak spot, because he pressed down onto the shield into Bucky’s knee harshly. This time, Bucky couldn’t help but yell.</p><p> </p><p>“Barnes? Barnes!”</p><p> </p><p>Bucky saw Richard in the corner of his vision. He was stumbling because of his injury, and Bucky was sure the man in front of him would be able to wipe the life away from Richard’s eyes with a few punches at this point. The attacker’s head perked up at the sound, and Bucky felt the need to lead his attention away as fast as possible.</p><p> </p><p>He hit the attacker’s arm, as hard as he could and barely even shook it. The armor’s texture felt like fabric but it felt way too hard to just be fabric. Though the action was enough to direct the hostile’s attention back to Bucky. He pressed down onto the shield again, but this time Bucky was more prepared. The attacker’s hands had released his rifle. Bucky’s teeth bit down harder, he held on and fired through the violent shivers running through him.</p><p> </p><p>Most bullets were off, but two hit. One in the shoulder and one in one arm. The attacker clearly wasn’t expecting it, judging by how he froze into place for a moment, giving Bucky time to kick him off. He stood up, one knee still weak and wobbling, and aimed for the attacker’s head. But when he pulled the trigger, he realized that he had spent his bullets.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh Jesus, what the hell is going on here-!?”</p><p> </p><p>Bucky kicked into the attacker’s shoulder, in his new bullet wound, making him fall over, and then whacked his rifle into his head to make sure he was down before responding.</p><p> </p><p>“Great timing, Richard! You run towards the edge of the forest, there’s one of those big high-tech guns lying next to a corpse, you get it and you- Oh, goddamnit-“</p><p> </p><p>He had to stop mid-sentence as he felt a gloved hand grab at his ankle. Who on earth recovers from a bullet to the shoulder and the arm so quickly!?</p><p> </p><p>The hand pulled suddenly, so Bucky naturally fell back onto the ground, head hitting a tree behind him. So much for having the upper hand for a moment.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m on it!” Richard’s voice rang from the distance.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky wanted to respond, ‘hurry up’, because through the dizziness of his skull colliding with the hard surface, he could see his attacker getting up. As he pushed up his weight with his injured arm, and the arm wavered, he growled.</p><p> </p><p>He actually <em> growled. </em> It was a deep sound, but still so very audible. If Bucky’s shirt wasn’t soaked enough with cold sweat, it definitely was now.</p><p> </p><p>“Alright, I get it. I shouldn’t have done that. You’re angry now,” Bucky said, his voice awfully shaky. </p><p> </p><p>And either the attacker didn’t understand English, or he was too furious to understand it. He was panting, eyes too dark to see clearly and ruffled, short, blond hair was now visible. Apparently, Bucky had unknowingly knocked it off his head when he hit his head.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky ducked and barely avoided a fist to the face. The attacker’s fist split through the wood of the tree and was stuck in it. Bucky tried not to think about how strong someone must be to break a tree with a fist and kicked his legs, getting back up as fast as he could and running. ‘As fast as he could’ wasn’t very fast, he realized, as his knee was still terribly aching.</p><p> </p><p>He couldn’t not think about how strong the hostile was as he decided the way he was going to remove his fist from the wood was to growl once more and – oh god, the entire birch tree was breaking in half in his grip, the upper half falling just beside Bucky, who was half-standing and watching with wide eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Genuine fear and confusion was pounding in his skull. When the hostile charged towards Bucky again, his brain blacked out and he used his empty rifle to hit the attacker’s head with all he had, but that was soon interrupted by a shield to his stomach, punching a painful groan out of him.</p><p> </p><p>“Barnes, you still there? They’re capturing your troop- I- I might not know how to fire this thing…”</p><p> </p><p>Bucky’s eyes leaked desperation as he heard Richard’s voice.</p><p> </p><p>“Don’t hesitate! <em> Just open fire!” </em></p><p> </p><p>He heard the sound of the weapon charging up and a light from where Richard’s voice had rung. But it was clear the attacker also had an idea of what was going on, and retracted his shield.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky’s heart dropped. This couldn’t be good.</p><p> </p><p>“Wait-“</p><p> </p><p>The lasers fired correctly, but hit the attacker’s shield and instead of hitting him.</p><p> </p><p>And they… Reflected from the shield onto Bucky’s left arm.</p><p> </p><p>A scream ripped through the midnight mist of the forest. Bucky’s arm burnt horribly, burnt worse than anything he had ever felt, like a piece of searing hot coal being tightly bound to his arm, so tight he couldn’t find an escape.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh God,” Richard stammered.</p><p> </p><p>As Bucky was trying his best to breathe in some air with his throat and chest muscles tightening in a high, high level of stress, the attacker threw his shield into Richard’s direction. He didn’t need to look to know that his attacker did not miss.</p><p> </p><p>Bucky didn’t blame his war friend. He had told him not to hesitate.</p><p> </p><p>His vision was blurring. The pain wouldn’t stop and it was begging him to close his eyes and just go to sleep. His last hope had just been knocked out – hopefully not killed, he wasn’t sure what else he could do to escape someone who just broke a tree with one arm. He turned over on the ground to crawl, as if it was going to help him get away.</p><p> </p><p>Not even seconds later, an arm smoothly locked around his neck, and then squeezed, confirming Bucky’s despair. The arm pressed into his windpipe, blocking his airflow. Bucky scratched, squeezed, hit the arm, but it was as steady and unmoving as a rock.</p><p> </p><p>“Shh.”</p><p> </p><p>The attacker had the <em> audacity </em> to shush him, as Bucky’s throat made helpless, hoarse noises, trying to get any air inside. He saw stars, his vision was pixelating, and the dark forest somehow became darker and darker. He was shivering.</p><p> </p><p>And then it was pitch black.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Let’s go, hope my fic’ll fit on AO3. :]</p></blockquote></div></div>
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